


The Prince and the Pendulum

by images_words



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Gen, Inspired by Nightwish, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Songfic, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/images_words/pseuds/images_words
Summary: Three years.Three years, Zuko has been in this prison.But he will not let them break him. He will keep his hope, for it is all he has left.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 367





	1. Prologue

Zuko shivered. The guard on duty had neglected to give him back his clothes, and he knew better than to ask. That would only result in a beating. If he was lucky. 

He laid down on the sorry excuse for a bed and pulled the thin blanket over himself. He stared up at the swaying blade above him, following it back and forth with his eyes. Most of the inmates found the pendulums unnerving, but to Zuko, it was a comfort. Many a night he had let its gentle swinging lull him to sleep.

Three years. 

Three years, Zuko had been in this prison. 

He hadn't even known that the prison existed until he woke up in this cell. But in those three years, he'd become intimately familiar with the place.

The prison wasn't just a prison. It was _alive._ And it was hungry.

There were stories, of course, spread amongst the inmates. Stories of the pendulums descending and cutting people in half as they slept. Of the prison itself simply... absorbing people. 

Zuko wasn't sure the other inmates actually believed these stories. He knew for a fact that many of them didn't, that they thought the stories were just to cover up just how many prisoners the guards had killed. 

Zuko didn't believe that for a second. Why bother covering up half the murders, only to be open about the other half? And he knew that the stories about the prison were true, even if the people telling them didn't believe it. 

The life expectancy in this place was a year and a half. He knew why the guards had spared him: he was young, he was pretty, and he was a good fuck.

What he didn't know was why the _prison_ had spared him. He spent a lot of time thinking about that.

He spent almost as much time talking to his mother. 

He wasn't sure if her spirit was visiting him, or if it was a hallucination. And he wasn't sure which he would prefer. If it was her spirit, it meant she was watching over him. Maybe she was keeping him safe from the prison. Maybe she'd made some sort of deal with it. But it would also mean she was dead. But if it was a hallucination... well, he wasn't sure what that would mean. 

He just tried not to think about what she was too much. The important thing was that she kept him sane, and she gave him hope.


	2. Rani

Zuko crawled across the floor of the cell, wincing in pain with every movement. He had his clothes back now, at least, but he couldn't put his shirt on; the rough material would only make things worse. 

He'd been whipped, and his back was raw and bleeding. He couldn't even lay down and look up at the pendulum; the pain was too much. 

And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, he started to cry. 

He cried from the pain, from the anger, from the knowledge of the injustice that had been done to him. (He'd stopped thinking this was his fault after the first time he was raped. No one deserved that.)

He curled in on himself, sobbing, screaming. 

"Hey. C'mere, kid." 

He recognized the voice of the inmate in the next cell, a kind older woman whose name he didn't know. She'd only been there a couple months.

She reached her hand through the tiny gap in the wall, and he took it, desperate for some form of human contact that wasn't violent. 

She gently squeezed his hand. "What's your name, kid? I'm Rani."

"Z- Zuko. I'm Zuko."

"You wouldn't happen to be the famous Zuko, would you?"

"Famous?"

"Yeah. There are stories of some guy named Zuko who's apparently survived here longer than anyone else. Three years, according to most. That you?"

"Yeah. That- that's me."

"You're younger than I thought you'd be. How old are you?"

"S-sixteen." He shivered, freezing, but still hurting too much to put a shirt on. Not that it would help much anyway. 

Rani gasped softly. "And you've been here for three years? Agni, you were so young... you're still just a kid... how have you survived this long?"

"The guards... took a liking to me. I'm young and pretty, they wouldn't kill me." He practically spat out the words. He was angry at them, so angry. They'd defiled him, they'd taken the last bit of innocence he'd had left. He'd never forgive them for that.

"Not the guards, Zuko. The prison. Why has it spared you for so long?"

He gasped. "You mean you believe the stories?"

"Of course I believe them. I don't know what this place is, but I know it's alive... and hungry."

"I... I think it's a spirit of some sort. Or at least, something that can see spirits, make deals with them."

"What makes you say that?"

"I think my mom made a deal with the prison to spare me. I mean... I could be wrong. Maybe it's not even her spirit I've been talking to, maybe it's just a hallucination... maybe I'm just too young, too small for the prison to bother with me. But... I like to think she's here. Watching over me. Keeping me safe." He smiled softly. "She sings to me sometimes, when I can't sleep... but she's not here tonight."

"I could sing to you. It wouldn't be the same, but... it might help."

"I... I'd like that." Zuko laid down on the cold ground, letting Rani's soft voice lull him to sleep. 

****

Rani was dead the next morning. 

Zuko knew something was wrong the moment he woke up. He was still holding her hand, but it had gone cold. He peeked through one of the gaps in the wall.

The blade of the pendulum that had hung above her cell was now swaying just inches above the ground, leaving a trail of her blood as it went. Zuko doubled over and vomited. 

He started screaming, then. At first, he was screaming out to the prison, asking it why. Why did it take everything from him? Was that part of the deal? That he would live, but in exchange it would kill anyone he got close to? He couldn't imagine his mother making a deal like that.

Eventually, it was just wordless wails of anguish. He screamed until his voice was ragged, screamed until his throat burned, screamed until he couldn't anymore.

Only when he stopped screaming did he hear the sound of a fight breaking out somewhere in the prison.


	3. The Rescue

He didn't know how or when the fighting started. All he knew was he had to be still and quiet, and maybe he could stay out of it. And if he stayed out of it, maybe he wouldn't get in trouble... maybe. 

He pressed himself into the corner of his cell, careful to remain perfectly silent. If they thought no one was in here...

Not once did he think that if others were escaping, he could too. There was no escape from this place, other than death. If the others had gotten out of their cells, it was only a matter of time before they were subdued by the guards.

He heard footsteps coming towards him. He tensed up, ready to... what, run? Run where? Leaving his cell would only get him in trouble. 

"Sokka, wait! There's someone else here!"

Zuko retreated farther into his cell as the people approached. He stared up at the swaying blade above him, not out of any expectation that it might save him, but just for the comfort it provided. 

His cell door opened, and he was surprised to see a boy and a girl who looked about his age. 

The boy slowly moved towards him. "It's okay. You're safe." He extended a hand. "Come with us, we'll get you out of here." 

Zuko peeked out of his cell and found, to his surprise, that the guards were all unconscious or dead. And these two weren't dressed like prisoners... maybe. Just maybe... 

Zuko reached out and took his hand, and the boy pulled him to his feet. 

"My name is Sokka, and this is Suki."

"...Zuko." 

"Huh. Like the dead prince. Interesting. Are you a firebender, Zuko?"

Zuko nodded slowly. "I... I was... not here, though. There's no sun here..." He could hardly remember what it felt like to call upon the fire. So deep underground, so far from the sun... there might as well not even be a sun.

"Hey Sokka, maybe we can ask questions _after_ we get out of here? Those guards are gonna wake up eventually."

"Right. Come on, Zuko." Sokka started to lead Zuko out. 

"I'm so cold... so cold here without the sun..."

"I know." Sokka put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. But we're gonna get you out of here, and you'll get to see the sun, alright? You'll never have to be cold again." 

And Zuko believed him. He would've believed anything Sokka told him. So he followed him. 

****

Being outside felt _amazing_. The feeling of grass beneath his feet, the sun on his face, the wind in his hair... he could've wept with joy.

Then he spotted it. The most magnificent creature he'd ever seen. Huge and fluffy, with two horns and six legs... and on top of it was a saddle. Were they going to _ride_ that thing?

Sokka laughed, noticing him staring. "Isn't he cute?"

"Cute? He's... he's _majestic._ " 

Sokka laughed again. It was the most beautiful sound Zuko had ever heard: true, joyful laughter. "His name is Appa. You can pet him if you want."

Zuko's eyes widened as he reached out and placed a hand in Appa's fur. It was thick and soft and beautiful. "Is he- is he yours?" he asked Sokka. 

Sokka shook his head. "He's Aang's... animal guide, or whatever. I don't know. It's an Avatar thing. Aang! Come meet your new firebending teacher!"

A bald boy who looked about 12 swung over the edge of Appa's saddle. Zuko stared in wonder. Sokka had said this kid was the Avatar... that meant there was still hope. There was still a chance to win.

The Avatar - Aang - smiled at him. "Hi! I'm Aang." 

"I- I'm Zuko. Technically- technically _Prince_ Zuko, although I was stripped of my rank when I was thrown in prison..."

That got the attention of the two girls still sitting in Appa's saddle. 

"Prince Zuko is dead," said one of them, a black-haired girl about the same age as Aang. Her eyes were a cloudy blue, and Zuko wondered if she was blind. "Everyone knows that."

Of course his father had told the world that he was dead, Zuko realized. What else would he have said? 'My son is in a top-secret underground prison being subjected to horrific torture as we speak'? No.

"Well... I'm here. I'm not dead. And... I could really use some new clothes..."


	4. Hairbrush

"So... Zuko. That's your name, right?" 

Zuko nodded, not saying a word. Aang sighed. He wasn't sure how to talk to Zuko. He didn't know how to talk to a prince, much less a dead one - although here he was, not dead.

They had stopped at a market to get Zuko some new clothes, and now Zuko and Aang were making their way back to Appa. Zuko looked a bit less disheveled now that he was out of his prison uniform, but his hair was still a mess, and he was painfully thin. He looked... well, not at all like the royalty he was.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" Zuko asked softly. 

"Um- no. Nope. I... was hoping we could talk."

"About what?"

"Well, I just thought... since you're going to be my firebending teacher... we should get to know each other. So... um. What's your favorite animal?"

"Turtleducks." Zuko smiled softly. "My mom and I used to sit by the pond and feed them..." 

"Oh." Aang smiled. "Well, that's nice." He knew Zuko had been through a lot. It was nice to see him smile, to hear him talk about something that made him happy. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm sixteen."

Aang frowned. "Really? You look younger."

Zuko shrugged. "Three years of severe malnutrition can do that."

"Oh. Right."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Zuko was looking down at the hairbrush in his hand. He'd bought it at Aang's suggestion; his hair hadn't been brushed in three years, after all, and it was a mess. And there was a lot of it.

"What's wrong? You're looking at that brush like you're afraid it's gonna attack you or something." 

"I've never brushed my own hair before," he admitted. "I'm not sure I really know how. I'm afraid I'll just make a bigger mess of it."

Aang was surprised by that. How could someone with that much hair go through sixteen years of life and never brush it? "Really?"

"I was a prince, remember? People... did that stuff for me. And then in prison I didn't really have access to a brush." 

"Well... it can't be that hard, right?" Aang, to be perfectly honest, didn't know how to properly brush hair either, or do anything other than shave it. "Not that I would really know... maybe you should ask Katara. She's good at hair." 

****

Katara was in the process of making a flower crown when she suddenly found a hairbrush shoved, rather unceremoniously, into her hands. She looked up to see Zuko standing over her, just... staring at her, almost expectantly.

"Um... Zuko? Care to explain?"

"...Aang said you could help me with my hair. I've never brushed my own hair before... I'm afraid I'll just make it worse if I try." 

She laughed lightly. "Alright. Sit down." 

He sat down in front of her, and she gently ran her fingers through his hair. 

Or at least, she tried to. She was immediately met with a mess of tangles that were impossible to work her fingers through. 

"Spirits, Zuko, this is... are you sure you don't just want to cut it off?"

" _No!_ " 

"Okay, okay. No need to freak out."

"I- sorry. No. I... I don't expect you to understand, I just... hair is highly symbolic in the Fire Nation."

She nodded. "Okay. I won't cut it. Promise." 

She picked up the brush, starting at the ends of his hair and working her way up. She couldn't just start at the top, especially with a mess like this. That would just push all the tangles down to the bottom and make things even more difficult. 

Almost two hours later, she was finally finished. His hair was still rather wild, but not tangled anymore. It actually looked quite nice. 

"Would you like to see it?"

He nodded, and she handed him a mirror.

He looked in it and gasped. "My face..."

She frowned. "Did... did you not know you had a scar there?"

"I did... I mean, I could feel it... but I didn't realize it was this bad. I just... wasn't expecting it, that's all." He forced a smile. "I like my hair, though. You did a good job."


End file.
